


Can't Believe You Love Me

by Zanbaby



Category: ALL OUT!! - Amase Shiori (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Body Worship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of kissing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Smitten Ebumi, Tender loving care, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-11 11:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10463373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanbaby/pseuds/Zanbaby
Summary: It's Valentine's Day but that's not for everyone, least of all Ebumi, who is really reaping the repercussions of his bad reputation. Even delinquents like to be romanced though, and there's one person who's about to do that like nobody else~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this took me an unlawfully long time to freakin finish idk why (’o`") u guys were really supportive of my last ebumi fic tho so ive tried to up my game in this one ((;3;)) pls check out my gurl [kitty kat](http://imagine-some-fluffy-asks.tumblr.com),, she had lots to add to this fic too~ ♡

Valentine's has _sure_ been cruel to your locker this year you think to yourself as you push down another wad of cards in an attempt to stack them orderly, while still leaving room for more.

 

It's only just gone lunchtime, but you have classes in the afternoon and it's not unlikely that since leaving home room you will return to hastily hidden envelopes and offerings all over your desk, even after only a _brief_ absence.

 

You need to get lunch though, and as _delightful_ as a load of chocolate is, that's not _really_ what you had in mind. White Day might very well end with you having your bank account frozen when it comes around.

 

"Oi, loser!" You hear; affectionately thrown at you by the lone blond swaggering down the hallway toward you.

 

"Well if it _isn't_ Sonic the _Edge_ hog!" You smirk, halting so that he can catch up, and putting your arm around his waist when he slings one around your shoulders, making you look like a couple even though this has just sort of become the uncoordinated greeting you give each other.

 

It had caught him off guard at first when you just responded to his physical gesture with one of your own, but Ebumi came to expect the awkward hug-thing now— you figure because he likes the way it makes him seem all macho having you under his arm while you walk.

 

"Whad'ya want then?" You tease him, pulling away when you enter the cafeteria.

 

"Why've I gotta' want somethin' just to be around ya'?" He replies with mock offence, nudging you lightly with his elbow in another of his little gestures. This one usually means that he's being sincere even when he sounds otherwise, and he _wants_ you to notice this more _importantly_.

 

"I'm only teasing you, silly boy," you assure him, pinching his cheek patronisingly as you pick up a drink.

 

"I think it's adorable that you want to be around me," you add candidly, turning your attention to the canteen as you speak in order to save him from the embarrassment of being seen to blush... even though you _know_ it's happening.

 

He clears his throat and scratches the back of his head then, glancing over at a nearby trash can since that's _far_ less intimidating than looking at you right now.

 

"Ahem— yeah... so uh... s— so—"

 

"Aren't you getting lunch?" You remind him rather than actually wonder, as you're now at the _end_ of the queue, and Ebumi has just been trailing behind you without _actually_ picking up anything to eat.

 

"Oh! Shit, yeah!" He quickly realises, lunging for something before you reach the checkout point.

 

Several members of the rugby team including Ume join you throughout the break period, and Ebumi starts to do that thing again where he talks over everyone else in heated conversation, but insists they all shut up when _you're_ about to say something... even though he's the only one still talking.

 

It's cute though. In fact, Ebumi is often quite the little gentleman when he puts conscious effort toward it; it's a nice side to him that few get to see.

 

It's just you and him as you walk back to class. You aren't in the same one unfortunately but he escorts you there nevertheless, and you prepare yourself for it as he grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a headlock before you can leave.

 

He always does this; it's just another of his overly-boyish ways of showing you affection.

 

Though there's a meaning to this one that you can understand through his nervous chuckle as he holds you not- _too_ -tightly like he would if he meant to _actually_ roughhouse with you, and that glint in his wild eyes that you catch every time you offer him a smile when he releases you and grins like an idiot.

 

This whole enactment means, 'I want more time with you. I want to be _closer_ to you. But I'm not brave enough to ask for it, and this is all I know how to do.'

 

"See you later," you laugh, waving briefly as you turn your back to him and enter the classroom.

 

"Ah, yeah! After... school right?" He needlessly revises, shaking his finger as if it's such a struggle to remember.

 

Really he's stalling for time, you know it not just by his words, but by the way he leans back on his heels in an attempt to _even_ prolong the time it takes him to turn and walk down the hall.

 

"After school," you nod, assuring him that he's going to get a chance to see you again before the end of the day.

 

He gives you a lopsided smirk and salutes by tapping his forehead with only his index finger, then delving his hands into his pockets and sauntering away.

 

He gazes down when he's about half way to his own class, and bites his lip thoughtfully, his fingers grazing the edge of a card in his pocket.

 

He'd need to see you later for sure if he is ever going to find the courage to give it to you.

 

 

You wait for him by the clubroom. There's no practice today but you know how he is about leaving school the back way. He's nowhere _near_ as subtle as he thinks he is, and never fails to make up an excuse as to why he wants to walk you home the long way.

 

Patiently, you always smile with a sage glimmer in your eyes and indulge the hopeless boy anyway.

 

He's oddly silent when he arrives this time though, just waving sheepishly as he trudges across the path with his bag slung over his shoulder.

 

"Hey kiddo h—"

 

"Was your day g— oh, sorry!" He quickly apologises as he interrupts you by accident.

 

You chuckle and soothe his worried expression by looping your hand around the crook of his elbow, signifying that you're ready to go.

 

"It's been fine. I don't know what I'll do with so many cards and sweets though," you mention, shifting the weight of the second bag you're carrying onto your shoulder more.

 

"Oh— ha, you got some already did you?" Ebumi laughs nervously, his cheeks heating up as he tries to resist the urge to tense his arm in the hopes that you'll notice how muscular they've become.

 

"Way too many," you express. "Valentine's Day is kind of a pain to be honest."

 

It's not that you're _ungrateful_ for the attention; you're really _very_ flattered that so many of your schoolmates admire you enough to give you these tokens.

 

But it just feels _unnecessary_ when you see these people _every_ day. It's not like they need to hand out excesses of gifts in order to solidify your friendship and it's not like there's a huge, mysterious aura of romance to who they're from when the vast majority of them are already your friends and have _signed_ their name, at that!

 

Valentine's Day is just another opportunity for people to waste money more than it is actually about celebrating genuine romance these days.

 

That sounds cynical, you think. Maybe it's more a case of it being for real grown ups then? That's probably the best time to enjoy it, when you're actually in love with a spouse or partner.

 

Ebumi seems a little stiff now; uneasy, almost.

 

"Ah, yeah... it's so sappy right?" He laughs mirthlessly; _very_ unconvincing.

 

"You got a lot though," he adds, glancing at the overfilled bag on your shoulder. "Must be nice... y'know... bein' in demand."

 

"In _demand_?" You giggle.

 

"Nah, it's not like that really. It's just like... people giving gifts they don't need to. I'm gunna' have to read these cards as well, I haven't even opened them yet," you fret a little, thinking of how you're going to respond to them all if there are any that actually _do_ require a response.

 

Ebumi goes quiet again, and you stop thinking about your Valentine's Day haul for a moment to wonder about his.

 

"You must have got a lot too though? Did you leave them in your locker? You heartbreaker," you joke with him.

 

He bristles; you feel it under your touch, and he turns his head away as he tries to force a laugh, but it comes out brittle and breathy.

 

"Nah, I'd... I'd never break anyone's heart," he says earnestly, as if it was an accusation in the first place.

 

You watch him for some kind of incentive here, a slight frown drawing your eyebrows together as you slow down a little when his pace changes.

 

"Hah, actually," he laughs again— bordering on a hiccup, "I didn't get any cards or anythin' like that... never have done."

 

His breath hitches then as he inhales; letting a sharp hick marr the beginning of his next sentence.

 

"I know I ain't good lookin'," he admits as though he genuinely _believes_ it.

 

"A— an' people are scared of me an' shit... like, I— I know I ain't nice or anythin'... I dunno' what I expect," he says shakily, sniffing.

 

"Ebucchi," you try in a gentle tone.

 

"Jus'— I jus' kinda'... want someone to l— like me that way, y'know?"

 

"Hey," you soothe, rubbing his back as you walk, "I get it, yeah. Of _course_!"

 

"I know I ain't the type to get like, lotsa' cards or be kissed an' stuff but— jus' think it'd be nice," he whimpers.

 

" _I_ think it'd be nice too," you agree in a sympathetic tone, producing a tissue from the front pocket on your satchel and offering it to him.

 

"So I'll pick you up at seven, yeah?"

 

He takes the tissue and nods while blowing his nose, but stops when he actually realises what you just said.

 

"H— huh?! Y— you'll pick me up?!"

 

"At seven, yeah," you certify calmly, continuing walking and leaving him a few footsteps behind where he has just frozen to the spot.

 

You have to turn around eventually to let him know you've reached your street, but to see that tears are still streaming down his cheeks and blotting his mascara brings an understanding smile to your face as you walk back those couple of feet and take out another tissue.

 

"Ebucchi, come on, don't cry," you pour comfortingly, "your makeup is going to run, sweetheart."

 

You dab carefully under his eyes to stop the drippy black teardrops from falling as they cling to his lashes, and he sniffs abruptly and looks down, trying to get away from his own blush.

 

"I ain't crying, loser!" He croaks with a pout, "wha'do I care if— if I don't get any Valentine's cards?"

 

"Well exactly," you coo to him, supporting the forced act of callousness to save the poor boy's dignity.

 

"I mean, _least_ of all when you're going on a date with me tonight," you add coolly, patting his cheek when you've finished wiping away the smears of mascara and the trickle of snot he keeps trying to sniff back up.

 

"Heh, right," he agrees, looking as if he's debating whether or not he should hug you or punch you on the shoulder, or maybe just _kiss_ you!

 

"Anyway, I live here," you snicker, "so I'll see you at seven?"

 

"S— seven, right! Yeah! You'll... you'll pick me up..."

 

"At seven," you wink, turning to your apartment.

 

"At seven," Ebumi repeats, as if it's the word that's now replaced goodbye and one of you has to stop saying it first and leave.

 

"See you at seven!" He laughs boyishly, rubbing the back of his head as he almost trips over his own feet attempting to walk away from you.

 

You're magnetic, it seems, but when you're out of sight he is free and has control of his body again.

 

"Seven," he smiles to himself, trying to keep from acting foolish and giddy as he heads home to get ready.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

You arrive at seven on the dot and give Ebumi a call to let him know you're here, but he's slow to answer for once and when he _does_ he sounds enormously panicked.

 

"Ah! W— wait, sorry I— I underestimated the time it'd take— um, actually— okay hold on—" he rambles, probably more to himself than you, and he stays on the phone even as he's thundering downstairs and going to the front door to unlock it.

 

"Oh, right," he remembers, realising he hasn't even told you to _come_ to the porch yet.

 

"Yeah, uh... actually yeah can ya' come in for a bit?" He asks hopefully.

 

"Sure, see you in a second," you smirk to yourself, hanging up before switching off the ignition and walking those great many two feet to his front gate.

 

He straightens up when he sees you, blinking several times likes he's not sure you're the person he was expecting.

 

"Wow, you look... _wow_ ," he says with uncharacteristic bewilderment when he eyes you up close.

 

"You look wow as well," you smirk, putting your shoulder forward to adjust his focus for him as he seems to just be staring now.

 

"Ah," he mouths dumbly, blinking again as if he'd just been on another planet.

 

"Oh! No I look— I mean that's what I... need help with, actually," he trails off, going to rub the back of his head like before; a nervous tick it seems, but stopping himself to save from unsettling the way he's gelled his hair back.

 

You follow him in as he invites you to, keeping your smile; it's irrepressible anyway.

 

"Sorry it's a mess," the blond apologises, only just seeming to realise what a state the house is in now since that hadn't even _occurred_ to him while he'd been dashing around getting ready.

 

"My mom ain't home for a while so I... forgot to tidy an' shit... sorry," he continues to apologise, closing doors overloaded with coats and mismatched laundry items, shirking empty wrappers of things and lone socks aside to make a path for the pair of you to get to his room through.

 

"It's fine, don't even worry about it," you chuckle.

 

It's really no bother, besides, you're more interested in where Ebumi got that _suit_ from.

 

It's sweet actually. He's clearly made a great effort, which in _itself_ is almost too cute to bear, but the fact that the pants and jacket are tight fitting around his upper arms and thighs, though are ultimately too long for him is just... adorable.

 

"I need help with the bow tie," he mentions shyly. "It's my Mr. Ta— it's my step-dad's suit."

 

"Ah, well that explanation certainly _fits_... but I'm not sure about those pants... or the jacket," you jest, silently instructing him to turn around to face the mirror while you fasten the little bow at the back.

 

He fiddles with the front of it, his cheeks rosy and round as apples when he practices a lopsided smile to himself.

 

"Yeah, it ain't all that comfortable. 'I look okay?" He wonders seriously.

 

"You look adorable; a real dapper little gentleman," you continue to tease lovingly, addicted to the way his blush blooms like cherry blossoms in spring, and those sharp but bubbly brown eyes avert your gaze in search of modesty.

 

"You look good with your hair like that... I like it actually," you compliment him, dusting off his shoulders as you examine him subtly from head to toe in the mirror opposite.

 

"Heh, thanks," he chuckles bashfully. "S— so uh... 'I look okay?" He asks again without really thinking.

 

"Come on valentine," you simper, giving him a kiss on the cheek before you start making your way to the door to encourage him to tear himself away from the mirror.

 

"R— right!" He concedes, tugging his lapels straight and patting his pockets to make sure he has everything.

 

He very nearly forgets to lock his own front _door_ without your reminder, and he's very stiff when he gets into the car; perhaps he's nervous to be driven you contemplate.

 

To _save_ him from his nerves you decide to put the radio on, and it does significantly relax him with the implementation of some ambience.

 

He bites his nails as he looks out the window, watching the scenery go past.

 

You can't help glancing over every now and again just to check on him, but you smile every time you're met with the view of the soft curve of his jaw and the way his dark lashes align themselves sharply with his brow bone.

 

He's an unusual boy, you conclude. He's always been offbeat, but there's a vulnerable element to him that you recognise through his best efforts toward charm and respectfulness.

 

Perhaps you and Matsuo are the only two genuinely familiar with that side to Ebumi, but in a way you want to keep it secret. In a world where kindness hasn't been offered to him generously, it's understandable that he would harden his shell.

 

Therefore, those that are lucky to see his sensitive side should _protect_ and nurture it, as you intend to... before it's too late for him to even grasp the feeling anymore.

 

You're not really paying attention to what's on the radio. Your focus is split between the road and your current internal debate, but it strays toward the boy in the passenger seat when you hear faint murmuring resembling the lyrics of the song on right now.

 

You smile brightly, and fix your eyes on the road again just to listen to him sing.

 

"Go on," you encourage, aware that he's stifling himself even though he clearly knows the words. "Let me hear you," you chuckle.

 

" _Huh_?!" Ebumi starts, "n— no I wasn't singin' I don't even know this song!" He protests, his cheeks a scarlet hue under the passing street lights as he stutters and revolts at the implication that he would _ever_ know the lyrics to such a _sappy_ piece of music.

 

You concede to him to save him from melting into an embarrassed puddle by turning the volume up and singing along yourself.

 

It takes him a moment where he just goes back to staring out the window, but he's bewitched by your confidence and saccharine voice, and his eyes dart over to get a fleeting glimpse of you several times before he finally succumbs to it, and starts to sing quietly.

 

You don't look, you barely smile; you avoid doing anything to make him think he's under scrutiny, and as you expect, his voice grows in strength until he's the loudest singer in the car.

 

You arrive at the restaurant much too soon for you to fully enjoy the blond's vocal range— he seems particularly fond of songs that involve loud choruses and guitar solos, and you'd nearly crashed twice just _getting_ here because you'd been laughing so much at his intense head-banging while doing a rather _convincing_ impersonation of Gene Simmons.

 

Ebumi doesn't seem so sure of himself when you park up though. He catches a glimpse of the place in passing, and gets out of the car after you, clutching the ill-fitting jacket before he puts it back on.

 

"Ready?" You smile, offering him your arm.

 

The restaurant looks pretty exclusive; it's not just some quiet pizzeria or classy bar in the middle of town, but what _looks_ like a _huge_ estate.

 

There are lights framing the guilds and contours of the manor's grand face, and an extravagant fountain right in the centre of the marble pathway.

 

"H— how did ya' find out about this place?" He wonders, taking smaller steps the nearer you get to the entrance.

 

"Hm? Oh I come here often," you reply cordially.

 

"You do?!"

 

That comes as quite a shock. This place looks like somewhere that one would only visit twice in a _lifetime_ at _most_!

 

Perhaps it is less intimidating inside, and more modestly _priced_ than it seems.

 

"Um... did ya' make a reservation?" The anxious blond continues to query.

 

His posture has shrunk and his grip on your arm tightens; he's uncomfortable, you can tell.

 

"Nah, it's okay," you reassure him. A lie, but your handy acquaintance inside will easily find you a substitute for the abandoned table on a night as busy as this.

 

"I'm not sure..." Ebumi murmurs, standing still just feet from the doors but refusing to let go of your arm. "I'm not sure I can go in there..."

 

"Hm?"

 

"I— I ain't meant for this, I'm sorry! I'm too rough-cut to go in a place like that, people are gunna' stare at me!" He protests, launching into sudden panic.

 

"Hey, its fine. You look fine. You're safe with me, okay?" You try to convince him, gracing the side of his face with a tender palm as you look at him with calm and radiant eyes.

 

"I ain't ready to go in there... I'm sorry," he whimpers.

 

"It's okay Ebucchi. This is your night, okay?" You insist with a warm gaze, leaning in closer and asking in a whisper, "where do you want to go with me?"

 

His breath hitches; he's surprisingly bashful for someone so arrogant, but an intimate move like that in front of a pair of glass doors, enabling dozens of potential onlookers to see you, forces him to grab your wrist and meet your gaze with a chaste expression.

 

"I'd go anywhere with you," he confesses, "just as long as it's us... I just want it to be us."

 

Your lips part into a grin, like a stage curtain lifting to reveal rows of gleaming pearls, and you kiss him frivolously on the plane of his cheekbone before you withdraw and take his hand.

 

"Come on then, I have a different idea," you promise him.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"So then I just straight up _punched_ the bastard!" Ebumi proudly recounts as he takes another slice of pizza.

 

"Wow, I see! And _then_ what happened?" You reply with wide eyes and keenness in your tone.

 

It's not a particularly civilised conversation, but the fact that Ebumi is trying hard to make one in the first place is worthy of your full attention, and besides, hearing him big himself up instead of talk himself down is a nice change from earlier.

 

"He punched me back," the blond shrugs, taking another slice of pizza in his opposite hand and alternating between each one.

 

The sea breeze is gentle and fresh, and the moon is particularly bright over the calm, dazzling water with no clouds to obscure its mellow ivory reflection.

 

It seems so boundless and big from the craggy clifftop the pair of you have nested on; owning the horizon as glinting stars take turns to catch your eye by shimmering from all expanses of the beautiful night sky veil.

 

The sound of the sea approaching the shore and kissing the sand as she rolls over it and leaves new gifts each turn provides the perfect ambience; just loud enough to make you feel separated from the rest of the world, but not too loud that you can't hear, more importantly, the voice of the boy beside you as he makes to speak again.

 

"Hey..." he starts, gaining your attention with a significantly more serious tone as he dusts off pizza grease from his hands by rubbing them up and down his knees slowly.

 

"Thank— thanks for bringing me up here... I know it ain't what ya' had in mind... but I ain't really the type of guy ya' wanna' be seen with in public... don't wanna' bring you down with me, y'know?"

 

You settle for a smile instead of a frown or a look of pity. You know what he's saying even though you can't agree, but there's another way for you to disprove his statement.

 

"I didn't bring you here because I don't want to be seen in public with you. I brought you here because you're the only person I _ever_ want to look at. Even the moon can't stop staring," you gesture, distracting his gaze from you for a moment long enough for you to steal a kiss.

 

Your lips capture each other; his unsuspecting but pliant under your direction as you delicately lift his chin with a brush of your fingertips, like admiring a flower.

 

He's not too caught off that he isn't ready to reciprocate though, in fact you're even curious that he'd been waiting all night for this gesture.

 

His hands mirror one another as he tentatively holds your head, both thumbs resting under your temples as his fingers forge rivers between the flow of your soft, sweet-smelling hair.

 

You break away first because he seems not to be able to even when it's clear he's short of breath. He gasps as your mouths are separated, and nods when you coo wordlessly and stroke the side of his head with a relaxed hand.

 

"Breathe," you hush him, "we have all night. I'm all yours."

 

He grins as he exhales; giving a breathy laugh in response to your choice of words.

 

"All mine?" He echoes in an uneven, quietly excitable tone. "I've never had anythin' this good before..."

 

You trace a ghostlike trail of kisses— mere touches of your lips— along his jaw up to his ear, where you brush against his blushing skin with the tip of your nose and tell him just loudly enough over the hush of the waves, "me either."

 

Ebumi draws back and looks at you questioningly, his pebbled eyes searching desperately for a lie or an inkling of insincerity, but he won't find any, because to you he deserves to know that he is special, and worthy, and he is the only person you'd _ever_ care to gaze at like this for the _rest_ of your life.

 

"Lets go to the sea," you grin impishly, taking his hand and leading him away with you as you kick off your shoes and run down to the beach to meet the riptide.

 

"Hey! W— wait," he cackles, losing your hand as he tries to remove his shoes and socks while still running.

 

You leave him behind for good sport, and laugh delightedly when he puts his speed to the test, catching up to you swiftly and sweeping you up in one fell swoop before spinning with you in his arms giddily.

 

"Let's go in the water, come on," you coax between cold, ocean sprayed kisses as he slowly sees you to your feet again.

 

"Hold my hand," he asks of you, staying close as you tiptoe into the shallows, crinkling your nose at the cold and using your free hand to keep your hair out of your face.

 

The moon's reflection ripples around you as the pair of you break the water's surface, spreading the shimmering light like a white cloud of milk pouring into still coffee.

 

You're already close to submerging yourself at knee's depth, but before you can step over the next rolling wave, Ebumi pulls you back.

 

The pair of you stand in the shallow water as it ebbs and laps around you; the stars shining down like freckles that frame the broad and brilliant crescent smile.

 

"Stay," he commands softly, holding you close, "I... want to kiss you again, here."

 

He's prepared to do so, tilting his head at the perfect angle and gazing at you with loving, lust-laden lids lowered languidly. But he seems afraid to initiate the gesture, until you exhale with a serene smile and approach his lips with adamance and _adoration_ on your tongue.

 

You _pour_ yourself into the kiss; into _him_ , and he is pliant and accepting under your dictation as the world sleeps around you and you stand, at one with the sea under the blanket of night, all alone.

 

"This is real... right?" The blond gasps, rueful already that he has broken the kiss and brushing your cheek with the back of his knuckles in an effort to repent for it.

 

"You ain't just... kissin' me because ya' feel sorry for me?"

 

He winces even while asking such a thing; like he knows it's absurd but he's just so _afraid_ that he's being set up for a laugh or that you only feel pity for him.

 

Your eyes are clouded with love, but they aren't foolish to what they see; swollen like the full moon and hungry for the sight of him, you simply cannot get enough, and you caress his face before holding it between delicate palms and make him a promise no louder than the breeze between the dry grass on the clifftop above.

 

"These lips would never lie to you... this is real."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sappy af sorry not sorry ((;3;))


	4. Chapter 4

The pair of you leave the beach soaking wet after Ebumi took fright from something touching his ankle, and in his bravery, by which that deferred to _you_ being used as a human shield, he took you down with him into the gritty waves where you ended up having to rescue him anyway.

 

It all ends in laughter once you've dragged him back to shore, and now you are just driving along the coastal road.

 

You kindly see to it that he doesn't catch a chill by wrapping him in the only blanket in the car, but the heaters are on at full output and the warmth of a gentle crackly voice over the radio pacifies you both enough to sit quietly and cosily as you glide along the winding strip.

 

Assured that a thorough wash and iron will fix the creases in the borrowed suit without any evidence of its kidnapping, Ebumi lolls peacefully in the passenger seat; his head resting heavy on his shoulder turned to face you.

 

He wears a more genuine look of softness; the look of a someone soused in love. It changes his face completely, but not in a _bad_ way by _any_ means. It's just... different, and sweet.

 

His pupils grow gaunt and a coldness fills his gaze when the sight of his house steals his attention from you. He sighs and rolls his head tiredly to stare straight forward, and his fingers twitch as they fiddle with the fabric in their grasp.

 

"We're here," you alert him in a bittersweet voice.

 

He nods and closes his eyes like he's bracing himself to let go, to remove his seatbelt, to say _goodbye_ to the comfort of the blanket that smells faintly of you.

 

To so much as persuade his legs into the act of leaving this car seems like a daunting task when all he really wants is to stay with you, and all that awaits him is a cold and empty house where he will return to a state of nothingness.

 

You're patient and quiet, watching him calculatingly. It's his decision to make, and you know _exactly_ what he's thinking, but still, you need to hear it _first_.

 

Ebumi grits his teeth behind thinly drawn lips; you see it as his jaw tenses and the muscles beneath his ears protrude as he inhales sharply through his nose and exhales with contrasting uneasiness.

 

He turns to you then, not his whole body, just his head. His eyes are burning with the anticipation of rejection and loneliness; like he knows all too well that he can't ever have a life with someone like you and all he'll _ever_ have is this night.

 

"Please..." he implores, "please don't make me go back there... I don't want tonight to end... I don't wanna' be alone," he hiccups, begging you as if you have hold of his heart in your bare fist.

 

"I don't wanna' go," he snivels, losing command over the tone of his voice as it gradates into a vulnerable plea.

 

"Ebucchi," you soothe him, turning in your seat to face him more directly as if you were lying beside one another in bed.

 

"I won't make you do anything, sweetheart. I'm yours. Tonight will end only when you want it to."

 

"I never want it to!" He objects, grabbing your wrist and holding your hand to his face like some cherished comfort from his childhood.

 

"Okay," you whisper, touching noses with him as a tear runs along the sharp bridge of his and continues onto yours as you catch it in time.

 

"Then it never has to end. I'm _yours_ ," you reiterate; the brilliance and strength of starlight in your voice even though you say so in such a sheer hush.

 

"Sit back," you coax, smiling as you press your lips to his in a signature of warm devotion to your promise.

 

"We're going home."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a really short chapter im so sorry,, i did a bad job splitting them up ((´д｀)) hope it was still enjoyable though~


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, brought you some towels. I'll put them on the heater for you, okay?" You alert him as you fold the two large fluffy sheets over the railings of the radiator.

 

"Enjoy your bath," you smile dazzlingly, about to leave Ebumi in peace as he sits, submerged in the tub brimming with bubbles and an aura of lavender.

 

"Ah, wait!" The blond protests, leaning over the ledge to reach for you with a dripping hand.

 

"Stay, yeah?" He smiles hopefully, "I wanna' keep talking with ya'."

 

You smile too; calm and regal in your way as you go over to him, closing the door behind you to keep the heat in, and sitting on the widest part of the bathtub as it merges with the windowsill.

 

"Want me to wash your hair for you, beautiful boy?" You offer soothly, already carding your fingertips through his stiff, uniformed tresses to loosen the gel and seawater from them.

 

Your nails glide over his scalp with _just_ the right amount of pressure for it to be divine, and a breathy moan escapes him as you then run your fingers back the other way, going against the inclination of the roots and relieving them of all the tension they harbour from being slicked back so fiercely.

 

"Feel good?" You purr to him, smirking with a knowing twinkle in your eye as you watch how he _melts_ and _moans_ and _leans_ into your touch.

 

"Y'heah... it feels... it feels great," he sighs with a mistakable note of wantonness in his voice, like just _this_ amount of love and attention is enough to make him come undone.

 

You reach for the lotion on the windowsill and squeeze a generous amount into your hand before massaging it into a thick lather that consumes the boy's head; unbeknownst to him as you chuckle while giving him adorable hair styles.

 

He looks funny with a pair of signature Ise horns, but you keep that to yourself since this isn't _really_ the right mood for banter.

 

Ebumi is more relaxed than you've ever seen him, which says quite a bit for the aggressive delinquent who is usually throwing his weight around.

 

There's just a completely different vibe radiating from him now. Like he's found ultimate peace and doesn't feel the need to uphold the pretense of such a bolshie, intravenously harmful attitude.

 

It feels almost like, in just these few moments, he's let go of all the pain and insecurity that he keeps bottled up; decided that he doesn't need it anymore— can't have it when he's around you.

 

He has to make room for new feelings and new memories. You will be the remedy to the thoughts that antagonise him, and you will replace the loneliness that mutes him from sharing how he hurts.

 

It's as if he's speaking to you without using any words. Just the change in his presence is enough to tell you all this, and you figure it must be true because the way he _croons_ and _curls_ _contently_ under the steady, _sinuous_ movements of your hands is proof enough of his happiness.

 

"You're so important, you know?" You decide you should remind him.

 

With his walls up and his mask of arrogance on, the reply should be: " _Obviously_ , I mean who the fuck d'ya take me for?!"

 

But as you presumed already, the Ebumi you have _here_ is the realest, rawest version; the one with his walls lowered and his skin bare, complaisant and trusting of your exploring fingers.

 

"Mmm," he acknowledges with a doubtful intonation.

 

You don't push or pry. You just kiss his cheek before rinsing his hair thoroughly and bestowing tender touches in between as you hold the shower head close and keep it on a light setting.

 

"Come into the living room when you're ready," you whisper, fixing the appliance back and signing your departure with another gentle kiss.

 

Ebumi looks to you and opens his mouth to request something that might make you stay, but when he realises, for what? For what do you need to stay? For the sake of just being near him? he relents and nods.

 

He comes out moments later with towel-dried hair wearing a long cotton smock that probably belonged to someone much bigger than him. You keep it around though; it's a very versatile garment.

 

"Heh, you look cute," you shrug, going back to teasing him playfully as he enters onto a scene of bliss by the looks of it.

 

Supper is lovingly set out for him on the coffee table, the lamps are dim and shadowy as candlelight, and the floor is nothing but sheeted futons all bound together to make a plush area to sleep on; swallowed in two feather duvets dressed in rich, plum and deep forest green patterns.

 

You don't stare at him while he eats. You occupy yourself with the playlist on your phone instead as compilations, _completely_ tuneless yet not without rhythm, echo the sound of birdsong and water in a forgettable hush of background noise.

 

Ebumi is chewing loudly; clearly hungry again, as you expect of a budding athlete, and it brings a smile to your face as you fail not to glance at him adoringly when he suckles on his own fingers to lap off the residue of raspberry conserve and butter.

 

"Ah~ thanks... I'm full now," he concludes, leaning back against you so that neither of you face one another and therefore neither see the other smile with foolish glee.

 

"Good, I figured you'd need something gentle on your stomach before bed," you say. The information is meaningless, but the delivery is everything; enabling you to slide away to the side so that he slips into your lap, distracted by the elegant, distant trill of your voice.

 

Before he even realises he's laying down he is enraptured by the silky, feather-light swoops of your slender fingers as you trace effortless patterns and pictures along his jawline.

 

"Y'said earlier..." he murmurs, closing his eyes as he falls lax into this state of utter harmony, "y'said I'm important..."

 

"I did," you confirm quietly, inviting your other hand to mirror the ritual swirling gestures you make on both sides of his face.

 

Ebumi frowns a little as he swallows; the notch in his throat visibly buoying as he does.

 

"T'who?" He asks. "Who am I... important to?"

 

"Darling," you smile; sheer as your hands rotate round his face like the hands of a clock, cupping his chin delicately in one and brushing back his damp hair with the opposite as it rests on his crown.

 

"You're just... important. To everyone."

 

He seems dissatisfied, and you're glad because... you _know_ what he wants to hear.

 

"You're important to _me_."

 

Though his eyes remain closed he smiles— he grins, and turns in your lap so that he can reach over and pat the space beside him.

 

"Lie down next to me... I want— wait for me a sec okay?"

 

"I'll wait for you," you assure him; not certain what for, but if it's what he needs of you then by all means.

 

You gently lift his head from your lap and lay down beside him then, and he takes a moment as he stays with his back to you, breathing out when you begin to rub between his shoulder blades.

 

Your fingers tip toe up to the collar of the shirt, and pull it down so that you can press a kiss to the nape of his neck.

 

"Wait here," Ebumi sighs, sounding pained to so much as leave you for a _second_.

 

You smile as you wait, and turn onto your back to gaze up at the ceiling so that instead of seeing you will listen for his return.

 

He's not light-footed, and it's cute. How he pads over to you with such purpose but then caution.

 

"Lucky... I kept it in my jacket so it wouldn't get wet," he announces, getting gracelessly onto his hands and knees before coming to kneel.

 

You look at him now with a candid regard, and see that he is holding out a card to you.

 

"You've... got a million of 'em... I was uh... I guess..." he falters, looking away as you take the card from him and immediately finding a new thing for himself to clutch at out of nervousness, choosing to grip his sleeve and bite his lip.

 

"I was scared it wouldn't mean nothin' if I gave it to ya' but... well, I— I wrote in it an'... stuff..." he takes another pause, his breath hitching like there's a lump forcing its way up his throat with the intention to make him choke and look a fool.

 

"I just... I want ya' to know how I really feel about ya'."

 

You blink; lost for a split second as you just hold the pink envelope dumbly between your fingers.

 

"Oh, god, please—" Ebumi laughs desperately, "please jus' open the damn thing so we can get this over with... I swear," he hiccups, "you're killin' me here... just... read it an' reject me already..."

 

Your expression becomes poignant and pitying, but you say nothing as you peel away the heart shaped seal and are met with a completely uncharacteristic choice. A card with a puppy wearing pink that you know for _sure_ Ebumi risked his _entire_ reputation to be seen buying, just for you.

 

You chuckle, letting him know it's okay and that he needn't be worried, but that doesn't tame the furious blush on his cheeks, or the adamant direction he has fixed his gaze on, or the pounding in his chest and the sweat on his palms.

 

He winces when you open the card, and looks very much like he is about to make a dive to snatch it back out of sheer embarrassment.

 

He doesn't though, and you read through his untidy scrawl, smiling every now and again as he recounts the times you've made him laugh and smile and want to live.

 

Ebumi is no wordsmith, but that's okay— _better_ , in fact, because you can see right here in his written hand that he is trying his best to show you, no matter _how_ limited his vocabulary or illegible his hiragana at times, that he has loved you since forever.

 

And even if he _thinks_ he lacks the words, the rights, or even the looks to be the person you deserve, he won't stop until he's able to make you as happy as you've made him.

 

"God... did ya' read it?" He begs to know.

 

"Yes, three times now," you reply matter-of-factly.

 

" _Three_?! Oh _god_ — Jesus fucking— ya' couldn't of just stopped after one time?" He despairs, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes in embarrassment.

 

You laugh and push against his shoulder, leaning in an nuzzling him. To this he protests, but all in good humour, and soon you have him at your mercy as you begin tickling and smooching him all over.

 

When he begs for reprieve, you grant it, and continue to grin down at him as he uncoils from his protective ball and gazes back up at you with pink cheeks.

 

"Ebucchi," you purr to him, caressing his face, "I love you just the same. And as I told you before... I'm yours."

 

"You... you mean that though?" He blinks, trying to dissuade the tears as his face falls from giddy to overwhelmed.

 

"I mean it, beautiful," you hush him, leaning down as he parts his legs for you to kneel between and kiss him on the lips.

 

His hands rest on your wrists as you prop yourself up with your arms, and he inclines forward to meet you half way as you cement your sincerity with a long and passionate moment of adoration, _pouring_ yourself into him _all_ over again.

 

A sniffle breaks the engagement of your tongues though, and you draw back and stroke his hair.

 

"S— sorry," he weeps, holding onto you for support.

 

You sit upright and place a hand on his back, bringing him in where he shuffles almost into your lap and starts to cry on you.

 

You're a little confused; _mildly_ alarmed, but you think he is maybe just overdrawn with emotion, it _has_ been a long and educational night with regards to feelings after all.

 

Suddenly the sobs turn to breathy huffs though, closer to laughter in fact, and you try to look at his face without breaking the embrace.

 

"Ebucchi... have you gone mad or?" 

 

You jest, but it works.

 

He chuckles breathily; shakes his head and sniffs.

 

"Nah," he concludes, the tears seeing themselves to an end as his body recovers from the brief attack of emotion.

 

"Nah," he says again, staring up at you through sodden but sparkling eyes, and wearing the _biggest_ grin.

 

"I just... can't believe you love me."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaa omg as if i needed more emotions now that ao!! has ended ;0; but anyway i hope this fic makes y'all feel a lil better~ (´∀｀)♡ i'll be taking prompts on tumblr really soon so that none of us have to go w/o our fav boyos!

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if there are any mistakes it's like 4am as im editing this ((óvò)) hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter tho lemme know what u think & what u want more of~ (’v`)


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